Of War
by 90TheGeneral09
Summary: Thinking about Eric and the time they've known each other, Alex ends up making a different choice in the cafeteria.
1. Chapter 1- 8 Weeks Before

**Chapter I- 8 Weeks Before**

* * *

Eric had walked this far across town before, but never in this kind of weather. It was a good half hour at least, walking on a sunny day- it was more than double that in the snow. Briefly, the short-haired blonde had considered calling Alex; he didn't have a doubt in the world that Alex would have at least _tried_ to plow through the snow in his ancient Volvo to get him. But the truth was, it didn't matter; Eric had his pride.

There weren't many winter clothes to be had in Eric's house; his mother left him precious little to buy clothes with when so much of the monthly budget went into her drinking. There simply weren't many clothes to be had for Eric, so two t-shirts, an old Army winter jacket, and his best pair of jeans would have to suffice.

Eric just hoped his best friend would understand. His mother always seemed to bring the worst kinds of boyfriends home; though he liked his mother, Eric hated her boyfriends. Every one of them was stronger than he was, and nearly all seemed to take a dislike to Eric very fast. A few- like the latest, for example- had decided that beating the hell out of Eric once in a while was good for the teenager, and a great deal of fun besides. Tonight, Eric had fought back, and the effort had cost the man a black eye- it also had gotten Eric literally thrown out the front door and into the snow.

Lucky, then, that Eric had planned for that. He simply got up and started walking.

Eric's heart had done a strange little flip-flop when Alex had told him he could come over anytime he wanted. He'd said this so casually one day, when Eric was complaining at lunch about how boring it was around his house, and how he never had anywhere to go on the weekends. Alex had just said simply, "Well, you can always come over to my place. Never as boring at a friend's house."

Eric idolized Alex, though he wasn't entirely sure why. But when Eric felt or believed something, he rarely questioned it- there had to be reason he looked up to his best friend as well as respected him. The two were a year apart, so perhaps age had some role in it- Alex was also stronger and better trained in hand-to-hand than Eric, so he guessed he admired that too.

But what mattered most to Eric, most of all, was just how damn smart Alex was. He knew so much, about so many things. Alex could sit back in his chair and rattle off the history of a given firearm or automobile without a second thought. He could relay stories from countless wars throughout history, and in war and in cars- two things Alex liked a great deal- he could tell you about countless successes and failures and why something had ended up in the one column instead of the other.

Alex was outwardly calm at nearly all times; he had a kind of self-control that Eric could never have. If provoked, Eric was quick to anger and could never do well at hiding it. But Alex… he could go up to people he absolutely loathed and treat them like a best friend. Eric knew; he'd seen the dark-haired teen do it. Alex was also a talented, gifted liar. It was unbelievable what he could make people think, the things he could sell them on.

Alex also was a visionary; he had written more than seventeen volumes in his college-ruled series of journals, spanning some four years and more than six hundred pages. In those pages he had written his personal thoughts and notes on daily events, yes- but more and more, Alex had told the short-haired blonde on occasion, the journals had become more about his thoughts and ideas on a grand scale than about events on a daily basis. Alex would read passages to Eric now and then- something Eric understood was a great privilege- and Eric would listen, spellbound all the while. At one point since their preparation for V-Day had begun, Alex had read aloud the final sentence or two from one entry: _"I've been thinking about something else, too. If there _is_ a God, why has He let me spend so much time getting ready to do something like this? Why hasn't He stopped me?"_

It was classic Alex all the way. He was a thinker to rival any of the 21st century in Eric's mind. It made Eric very proud- though he was too shy to admit it- that he was playing a role in helping his best friend achieve fame, and through it recognition of his greatness. Eric was very grateful to play so important a part in the fulfillment of Alex's life.

It was those thoughts that helped keep Eric warm as he trudged through the snow on Friday night in January of 2003. His hands at least were safe; he had a nice pair of Army-issue leather gloves, bought from a local surplus store, that did the job nicely. But the wind stung his face mercilessly, and the coat's hood pulled up over his head could only do so much.

Eric just kept putting one foot in front of the other. Alex's family was not exactly rich; their house was a bit on the cold side in the winter, too. But it was someplace to go on a night like this, and Eric was glad to have anyplace to go at all. And Alex was a good friend- more than just some simple, ordinary friend at that. He was a truly great friend, the kind who would do anything he could for you and then do something more, just because you asked.

It wasn't until nearly 10:30pm that night that Eric got to the snowed-in end of Alex's driveway. He read the number on the side of the mailbox, just to be sure- 9053 Cameron Drive; yep, this was it, all right. Turning his back to the wind, Eric took out his cell phone- a cheap, righteously uncool thing that dated back to somewhere in the 90's- and dialed Alex's number.

One ring, two, three… Eric prayed he wasn't too late, or that his friend hadn't come up with new plans and left town. He'd had to go into the city a few weeks ago to visit his older sister- she'd been sick, apparently, and Alex hadn't had any choice but to go see her. Family was important to Alex. Eric had had a vague suspicion his friend had been lying- he imagined there was indeed a tall, attractive older girl Alex was indeed going to see in the city… but there was a solid chance that if that was so, she wasn't Alex's sister. Maybe it was his sister's friend. But whatever the truth of that day was, Eric didn't mind. He even forgave Alex for leaving him to deal with the big asshole jocks at school for those two weeks. Eric could take getting slammed into a few lockers; he knew there'd be hell to pay when Alex got back. The dark-haired, brown-eyed teen was brilliantly inventive with his fury.

Four, five…

_Please pick up, man, _Eric prayed silently. _Pick_ _up for me just this once_.

"What?"

The voice was surprised, almost irritated, even- but it was Alex, all right. Eric spoke quickly, his voice shy and awkward, as it always seemed to be whenever he was asking for something he knew Alex might not give him… but always seemed to in the end.

"Hey, man," Eric said. "My folks kicked me out. Can I come over?"

"They kicked you out?" Alex was angry at someone else now, his voice indignant. "Well, where are you?"

Eric laughed a little. "I'm outside your driveway, man."

The blinds in Alex's room in the basement parted for a moment. Then Alex came back on the line, now sounding shocked. "Dude! Why didn't you fucking _call_ me?"

Eric didn't want to say it was because he knew Alex would probably have done something stupid and gotten his car stuck in the snow. Instead, Eric just said, "I felt like walking this time."

Alex didn't buy that for a minute, not from his tone of voice. But he let it go, asking no further questions. Instead, Eric just heard his friend say, "Well, get up to the front door already. My parents are out of town this weekend, so I'm letting you in."

Eric hurried through the falling snow up to the front door of Alex's family's white brick house. He was shivering from the cold, but had never felt happier than when he saw Alex's face appear on the other side of the door.

"Come on, man! Get in here!" Alex snapped, dusting snow off Eric's shoulders and ruffling his hands through his blonde hair. "Aw, come on," Eric said, but Alex would have none of it. He fussed over Eric like a concerned mother, even insisting on microwaving some Sopwith microwave pizza and a hot chocolate for the both of them. They sat in the kitchen for close to an hour, slowly warding off the cold while the wind howled now and then outside.

"Fuck, Alex… I mean… _fuck_, man." Eric suddenly laughed a little, too shy to say anything else. He was thankful and wanted to say so, but didn't really know how. Alex was the big talker, the one who could always think of what to say.

"There's plenty of food in the fridge if you need some more, man," Alex said, getting up. "I'll be downstairs. Gonna have to get some sleep soon."

Eric looked up then, somewhat curious. He glanced outside; it had to be up to four inches already. "I think it's gonna be a snow day, dog," Eric said.

Alex, for his part, noticed it was yet another line from Eric that he could have just responded to with "No shit". And he would have, had it been anyone else. Yet, coming from Eric, the statement was not only undeserving of rudeness, but actually worth listening to. Anything Eric said mattered, no matter how plain-spoken it was.

So Alex just smiled. "Exactly, dude," he said. "Gotta sleep in while I got the chance."

It was vaguely exciting to Eric when he thought of spending the night in Alex's room. He'd never done that before. But he didn't have a couch in there or anything, and the armchair at his computer desk was hardly worth sleeping in- if you weren't fucked up on pot.

After a few minutes of finishing his hot chocolate and then putting the dishes away, Eric hung up his coat on a rack in the hall and headed downstairs. Alex was going through some boxes under his bed, complaining to himself when he was apparently failing to find something.

"Uh, hey, man," Alex said as Eric came into the room. "I thought I had some extra blankets under here somewhere, but I guess my mom moved 'em."

Eric noticed a slight sideways movement in Alex's eyes then, a momentary inability to meet the blonde's crisp blue eyes. For the second time since they'd known each other, Eric had a feeling his friend was lying.

But he knew he didn't care.

Alex was already settling under the heavy blanket covering his single bed, and Eric stood nearby, feeling more than a little awkward. He shivered in spite of himself as a breeze hit him; it was a little cold, even inside Alex's house.

"Damn, man," Eric grumbled. "Figures your mom'd move the damn blankets, just when we need 'em."

"I'm sorry," Alex said, and he seemed to mean it.

"I mean, it wasn't enough that I fuckin had to walk here in the fuckin cold?"

"It was enough for me," Alex said.

Eric stood there for a few moments, and then for a few minutes tried snatching one of the spare pillows and curling up on the carpeted floor. But that wasn't working; Eric soon found it just wasn't working at all.

Then Eric gave up, and without complaining- or even asking- got up, lifted the covers for a moment and joined Alex on his single bed. There was hardly enough space for one seventeen year old boy; there was precious space to spare with the both of them.

But strangely, Alex didn't complain; he didn't even seem to mind. He'd been surprised for a moment, certainly- but only for a moment. He'd seen Eric questioning the lie for a moment, perhaps suspecting that Alex had indeed been making a show of pointing out how those three winter blankets weren't there like they usually were. But if Eric suspected Alex of lying, he simply didn't care. Alex hadn't known what words to say, to tell Alex it was okay if he wanted to share the bed with him.

But he had been _hoping_ Eric would do that.

The two boys might have been skinny, but what flesh was on them was mostly muscle. They were lean, and in their own private workouts getting a little more mean. Alex felt Eric's shoulders brush up against him, then stay there as the tired blonde naturally sought warmth. Alex finally decided to take a risk and wrapped an arm around his friend, pulling him close and keeping him warm under the covers. A sheen of sweat broke out on Alex's forehead when he realised he was a little excited; Eric could surely feel that, and he couldn't be totally asleep yet.

But if Eric did, he didn't care. What Eric did care about was that he was going to sleep, soundly and comfortably, for the first time in a long while. And he was feeling better than warm, more than safe.


	2. Chapter 2- 24 Hours Before

**Chapter II- 24 Hours Before**

* * *

By the start of April, everything was in place. The bombs- the heavy propane and the light pipe ones- were made, the guns bought and ammunition stored. Everything was ready.

Alex invited Eric over for the night, and this time Eric accepted a right over gladly. It was April 4th, 2003; by the end of April 5th their lives would be over. Soon he and Alex wouldn't be doing anything, ever again.

And that put Eric in a completely new mindset. He was looking at everything in ways he hadn't before; on the walk home from school that day, he'd looked over a grassy field and wondered about the persistence of grass, how it always found a way to survive. He looked up at the blue sky, at the yellow sun shining warmly down on his back… and wondered, as if for the first time, if all of it really did have meaning.

And when he got over to Alex's house and the two did so many things they'd always loved doing- playing a bunch of different video games, shooting rifles in the garage and blowing up firecrackers in the toilet, whooping each time the splash went higher- Eric found it sobering to think they were doing all of this for the last time.

It wasn't normal to know you were going to wake up tomorrow morning and face your last day on Earth. But to Eric, such knowledge wasn't by itself a gift or curse. It was just knowledge, a thing that could be good or bad. Eric chose to believe it was good. Knowing death would come for him soon- at a time and place, and in a manner of Eric's own choosing- was a relief.

He wouldn't have to worry about anything anymore, ever again. Alex would protect him like he'd done for years, and the bullies would at last get the payback they'd earned. That was the whole point of their joint attack on their local cookie-cutter suburban high school; there was a reason it was called Vengeance Day in their journals. It was about payback, plain and simple.

Once they'd blown up enough firecrackers- and splashed themselves with plenty of water in the process- Alex headed upstairs for a shower, taking the privilege of showering in the larger master bathroom for this final time.

Eric sat on the couch in the living room for a minute or two after he heard the water come on. Eric wanted to do something, but didn't know how to do it. He wanted to say something, but couldn't think of the words.

Finally the blonde just gave up. To hell with it; it was now or never.

Eric entered the bathroom quietly; around a corner in the white-tiled room, he could see Alex running his hands through his brown-black hair, leaning his head back and enjoying the warm water and steam. The blonde nervously fidgeted with his blonde, buzz-cut hair for a moment, then started to strip. Piling his clothes in a corner in a rather poor imitation of Alex's obsessive neatness, Eric stood up started walking towards the shower, minding his steps on the moist tiles of the bathroom floor.

As Eric walked, he noticed his pulse quickening, and could feel he was a little heavier below the waist than normal. Well, why not? It wasn't every day a boy told someone what Eric had to say.

Opening the glass shower door, Eric blinked a little at the billowing steam, escaping through the open door instead of just over the one-foot by three-foot space at the top, but stepped inside without hesitation. Alex blinked, clearly surprised at Eric's arrival, but said nothing as the two stared face-to-face, barely inches apart with the shower' warm water raining down on both of them.

"Hey," Eric said quietly.

"Hey."

"So this is it, man," Eric said. "We're gonna die tomorrow." He glanced outside briefly; the sun was going down, shining amber outside the bathroom window.

"Yeah." Alex, for once, had surprisingly little to say.

"Hey, I've, uh… I've never actually kissed anyone before," Eric said, shy and embarrassed to admit it. He stared down at the floor briefly, not sure what else to say. He glanced back up, though, and stared Alex in the eyes. He had to ask this question, even though he was already sure of the answer.

"Have you?" Eric asked.

For a moment, Alex just stared silently at him, his expression blank and the look in his eyes undecipherable.

Then he leaned forward, gripped Eric's arms, and kissed him.

Now it was Eric's turn to be surprised, but like Alex he did not object, did not turn away. Suddenly, he set a hand on the back of Alex's neck, kissing him back, delighting in getting to know the feeling of another pair of human lips pressed against his for the first time. But this wasn't just anybody he was kissing; it was Alex. Somehow, that counted for something. Eric didn't know what it meant, but he did know this wasn't a moment to be wasted.

Alex kissed him, mimicking Eric's gesture and softly pulling him close until their chests touched. He kissed Eric again, and Eric opened his mouth; the boys' tongues met and intertwined, curiously exploring the other's mouth and teeth.

Eric had never been a good talker, or a good writer- he'd always been better at things where you didn't think too much about it, where you just went ahead and did it because it felt right. Those moments had been few and far between in both their lives, but Eric knew he was in one of those moments now. Eric could feel his heart beating faster; he now stood so close to Alex he could feel the dark-haired teen's heart beating faster too. Eric let Alex take the lead as they kissed; Alex slid his lips across Eric's neck, biting at his neck and shoulders lightly, then sharply- had it been anyone else, Eric would have cried out, pulled away. But with Alex, the pain just made it sweeter. Eric sighed as Alex bit his neck like a savage, once almost hard enough to draw blood; his hands found slid down Alex's belly, feeling the taut muscle and skin made softer by the water.

Then Alex was kissing him on the shoulders, then the neck; Eric took hold of Alex's cock. He was hard down there, more than just excited, and Alex gave a soft moan as Eric's hands began rubbing up and down, increasing the excitement and more than doubling the pleasure. Suddenly Alex shoved Eric, slamming him back against the shower wall; Eric's head whipped back and for a moment he saw stars. But before he could complain, before Eric could say anything, Alex was kissing him, pressed up close against him and rubbing himself up between them. Eric moaned softly, and Alex moaned back as they kissed again and again. Eric might not have been good at saying things, but he was good at _some_ things. This was something he could do well; in that one soft, single moan, Eric realised he no longer needed to say anything. Not anymore. He'd said all he needed to, and he knew Alex understood. The other boy pressed him against the shower wall, rubbing himself between them until he came, a series of hot, warm jets.

Alex suddenly grasped Eric then, pulling the blonde up against him, mimicking what he'd just done. Eric couldn't bring himself to shove Alex, but he did understand what Alex wanted- needed- him to do. Eric mimicked the actions of his friend, thrusting himself against Alex and rubbing his cock between them. When he came, he did so strongly enough that his eardrums bulged. Alex sighed, and Eric sighed with him. They stood there in the shower for some time, just coming back down with the water rushing over their heads.

Contrary to what some might have expected, Eric and Alex didn't end up sharing a bed that night. Once the intensity of the moment in the shower had passed, the both of them ended up rather awkwardly departing the room. Alex went to his room for the night, and Eric took up residence on the couch in Alex's living room. Neither one of them minded the other's choice; each just needed some time alone to think. They'd already spent nearly all of April 4th together, and they'd die together on April 5th. But for what was left of the day before V-Day, long after the sun had gone down, the both of them just needed a certain amount of time to themselves.

Alex and Eric both ended up staring up at the ceiling into the same late hours at night, though, and thinking about the same things.

_Why did I do that_? It was a question both of them ended up spending some time answering.

Eric thought about it in the straightforward, matter-of-fact manner through which he saw nearly everything. He believed in following one's instincts a great deal; eating, fucking and killing were three of the most natural acts in life, for any species. It felt right, so he did it.

But if there had to be something more to it, Eric realised that there simply might not be anything most people would call a reason. Because Eric and Alex had just spent their last full day alive; they would get up tomorrow morning knowing they were going to die. That put one's mind in an entirely different way than most. Knowing you had seen your last sunset was not a common thought, and realizing you had so little time to live made your mindset as different from "normal" people's as night and day. Eric knew he'd done something right, and that no one could ever understand the why of it even if they tried.

_It felt right, so I did it_. Eric went to sleep with those reassuring words on his mind.

Alex, on the other hand, looked at the issue more thoroughly. It wasn't that Eric was stupid- though he was compared to Alex, which was hardly an uncommon failing. Rather, it was simply that Eric, so sure that basic reasoning and instinct were enough in all things, tended to just look at the surface of things and not much farther beyond. Alex tended to be more insightful than that.

_Why did I do it_? Alex wondered, and right on the heels of that, _Why did _he_ do it_? It had been quite a shock to Alex when Eric had just walked into the shower like that. But something about it hadn't seemed wrong, or out of place… which having your best friend join you naked in the shower certainly would normally be.

Alex understood he'd seen his last sunset, and that through his actions an as-yet-unknown number of people at their high school also had their last day cut out for them. The same thing could be said of Eric, and both of them were clearly aware of this. It made you think differently, stop and take inventory of things… and maybe, just for the hell of it, do at least one thing you otherwise never would have even considered.

Thinking about it late into the night, Alex realised Eric was actually very smart, very good with words in his own way. But the way Eric knew best to communicate was not through speaking with words, or by talking about something. He had to do it himself; he had to _show_ you. In that one soft moan Eric had let out in the shower while Alex was kissing his neck, he had said everything he'd never been able to say aloud. As odd as it might have seemed to some, Eric said things best when he said nothing at all.

Alex understood that none of this had anything to do with Eric or himself being gay; there was no chance the both of them had somehow been secretly in love with each other the whole time. One thing that made Alex and Eric such good friends was that they had both suffered firsthand the pointless, arbitrary cruelties of the middle and high school system in suburban America. They had both been betrayed or left behind by nearly everyone and everything they should have been able to trust. So what was love to either of them? What use did they have for it; if either one of them believed in its existence at all? Alex knew he believed in friendship; that was real. And he believed in… release. Spending time with someone who mattered to you, giving them all you had because that's how much they mattered. That was real, too.

And there was something else… something that Alex had a tough time trying to place. It seemed almost like Eric had been holding himself back before, that only there in the shower did he finally just step back and fall into the unknown, leaving it entirely up to Alex to catch him. Alex smiled at the thought; Eric had always seemed to hold some secret wish to be as good as Alex, as smart and as capable. Or, failing that, to at least be worthy of Alex's attention and respect. He looked up to Alex and had even said so once. Yet he always seemed to fear following his most honoured rule when he was with Alex; Eric had seemed afraid that if he did what he wanted to, what felt right, with Alex, he might be rejected, or misunderstood.

Alex smiled a little, looking up at the ceiling in his bedroom with his hands folded up behind his head. _Don't be so shy, Eric_, he thought. _I like it better when you're not_.


	3. Chapter 3- Vengeance Day

**Chapter III- Vengeance Day**

* * *

It was about 0700 when Eric got up on April 5th, 2003; he and Alex had been drilling on that all through the past year. But Alex wasn't up until 8, by which time Eric was already in the kitchen, eating cereal, on the grounds that it was the only thing he was certain he could fix without possibly blowing up the kitchen.

No words were exchanged between them during breakfast.

They returned to Alex's room in the basement, though, and to where the propane bombs were stored in the garage. Eric grinned at the sight of the heavy, 20-pound bombs. "Can you imagine what it woulda been like to be the motherfucker that dropped those bombs on Japan? Coupla dudes in a bomber killed hundreds of _thousands_. _That_ fuckin' _rules_."

Alex just shook his head, laughing in amusement. "You fuckin' psycho."

"Yeah. You oughta know, you're his best friend."

Grunting as he lifted one of the bombs and loaded the heavy propane tank into the Volvo outside, Alex said, "Philosophically speaking, Eric, the world has been going downhill ever since we convinced ourselves that so-called 'civilized man' is no longer an animal, and no longer needs to be armed and ready to fight."

Eric grunted as he set one of the other bombs down in the Volvo station wagon's rear. "So- what the fuck does _that_ mean?" He was not the thinker Alex was, and Alex _had_ to know it.

"What it means, Eric, is that we have to show people they need to be ready for anything."

Eric grinned. "I got that."

Going over marked blueprint sheets stolen from a few select offices in their high school, Eric and Alex stood over the kitchen table and rehearsed the plan. They knew where they'd enter the school, how and at what time. The bomb placement points, the time of detonation each one was to be set for- 11:16- and what weapons they'd be using were all gone over one final time.

"I think what I'm gonna enjoy most, man, is shooting my gym teacher," Alex smiled. "Plus all those dumbass jocks and shit."

Eric just grinned like a wolf. He had little to offer during all of the planning they were going over that morning- beyond marvel at Alex's brilliance, how he had clearly thought of everything, what else was there to say?

Finally, Alex said, "Between the two of us, we have enough ammo to last almost a day. Most important thing is, _have fun_, man!"

They geared up starting just a minute or two later; the process took some ten minutes.

"I don't really appreciate you shoving me into the shower wall, man," Eric said with a smile as he pulled on his black combat boots- same ones as Alex was wearing. The blonde gingerly rubbed the back of his head. "I mean, that shit's gonna bruise, dog. You know?"

Alex pulled on his black sweater; black boots, black cargo pants, black boots, black hair- hell, even his AR-15 was black. That was definitely Alex's colour today.

"I don't really give a shit, Eric," Alex said simply. There was no hint or affection or of disdain in his voice; it was just a fact. He really _didn't_ give a shit.

But Eric smiled shyly; he even forgave Alex for that, bruises or not. His neck was still rather sore in some places where Alex had bitten him, but he didn't mention that. It was fine. "Whatever, man," Eric said. "Good thing I like you."

At that, Alex _did_ smile a little. He was glad Eric liked him, and in a way he'd never really considered before. He checked the black assault pack he'd be wearing, making sure it had all the gear he wanted. It did. He looked up at Eric, who had his outfit on now, and was checking his backpack as well. "You got everything?"

Eric stood, picking up his primary weapon of choice, a TEC-9 submachine gun. Showy and lots of noise, but in Alex's opinion it was much too prone to jamming. But that had been Eric's choice, and in any case his secondary was a pump-action Remington shotgun, and each of them also carried an M1911 .45 calibre pistol. Yep, they'd be fine.

"Yeah," Eric said. "You ready?"

Alex stood too, taking the keys to his 1970's-vintage Volvo out of his pocket. "Let's go."

The drive to the school was silent, each of the teenagers occupied with his own thoughts. Alex brought a Coke with him and drank it on the way there, while Eric smoked a cigarette right down to the filter.

At 11:00 they parked in the high school's Senior parking lot, carefully concealing the bombs in their individual duffel bags and carrying them to a few select locations around the school.

As the two walked in towards the school, loaded down with combat gear and black duffel bags- a definitely lack of subtlety there, Alex had to admit- John, with his girly, almost shoulder-length blonde hair and bright yellow shirt and jeans, came over towards them. It was a cold, rainy April day, and John's breath almost puffed in the air in front of him as he walked over. "Hey, what're you guys doing?" he asked, but Alex just said in a voice that had few words to spare, "Just get the fuck out, don't come back. Some heavy shit's goin' down."

Eric just ignored John entirely, striding determinedly on towards the double doors at the side entrance to the school.

Once inside, Alex and Eric quickly got the bombs placed. There were four of them, named Jones, Revere, Jackson and Lee. Alex smiled as he read the name stenciled onto each bomb, setting the timer before zipping up the duffel bag. By 11:10 they were in an empty hallway downstairs, waiting for the bombs to detonate. It was 11:16.

Eric looked around, clearly both puzzled and annoyed. "Dude. What the fuck?"

Alex sighed irritably; he had a tendency to lose his cool when things he'd spent a lot of time planning didn't work like they were supposed to. This was the most ambitious, most daring plan he'd ever mounted, and already things were fucking up.

A lone janitor, only a few years out of high school himself, emerged into the hallway then, coming from one of the other corridors. The school had three floors all things considered, and was just honeycombed with these endless, antiseptic white-washed hallways with their fake tiles on the floor. Alex looked forward to spicing things up.

"Hey," the janitor called, "what're you guys doing?"

That question again.

"Oh, nothing," Alex called back with a casual tone that surprised even himself. He didn't sound worried at all. "Just a senior prank, my man. We got ourselves some paintball guns here is all."

The janitor bought it, because he laughed a little and started heading back where he'd been going; down the hall and away from Alex and Eric. "Well, I get off at 12, okay, man? Just lemme punch out _before_ you start shooting."

"You know it," Alex said.

Then he turned back to Eric, looking at his watch. "Don't worry about it," Alex said, forcing himself to keep calm. "It's probably just slow. Let's go to Plan B."

They started walking down the hallway, opposite the direction where they'd seen the janitor. "Are you sure you set it right?" Eric asked.

"Positive."

They headed down the one hallway and turned onto another, heading for the doors to the ground-floor library. Alex had his shotgun in hand, the AR-15 slung over his back. A pistol belt, clipped at his waist, held a set of some twelve shotgun shells. Many more were to be found in his backpack and cargo pockets. Eric had his TEC-9 in hand, his Remington held on his back by a sling.

They walked into the library without saying a word, just as cool and calm as you please.

It was 4th Hour, and everyone seemed intent on their own studies and assignments, their own little worlds. It was here that some of the most sincere and studious students tended to congregate; ironic, then, that they would be dying first.

_No mercy_, Alex thought in the silence of the library, the fluorescent bar lights buzzing softly overhead. _No pity for the majority_.

After just a moment, Alex decided he didn't have people's attention yet. That was gonna have to change.

_Ka-clack_! Alex pumped the first shell into the shotgun. Locked and loaded.

Now people did turn; glances did come their way.

Elias, the senior class's resident photography specialist, reacted with impressive calm. He just turned and looked at the two for a moment, then raised his camera- God alone knew how much it was worth- and snapped a picture.

Alex nodded; _Good_, he thought. _Very good_.

Michelle, the dorky girl who everybody knew for never wearing shorts in gym class, spoke up then. She had a book cart beside her, and had clearly been in the midst of her librarian's assistant duties. "Hey, you guy-"

BANG!

Alex fired his first shot; the shotgun bucked against his shoulder and Michelle went down like a sack of potatoes, still wearing that wary and uncertain expression on her face. She hadn't even understood what was really happening.

_I have no time for mercy_, Alex thought as he turned, pumped the shotgun, and killed a freshman just bolting up from his seat at one of the tables. _Not even for you, poor Michelle. Not even for yo_u.

Alex pumped and fired, pumped and fired. By the time the shotgun was empty and Alex dove behind a bookshelf to reload, some four bodies at least had hit the carpeted floor. Alex began stripping shells off the belt at his waist, loading them in one by one. Above him, he could hear Eric's TEC-9 chattering away; the hot shells rolled all over the floor, and Eric grinned as he achieved what must have been his first kill.

"Damn, sucker, I just _got some_," Eric boasted as his friend stood back up, pumping another shell into the reloaded shotgun.

Eric glanced at Alex; "I'm a _man_ now! Just like you, dude." Eric paused, getting a funny look on his face. "Except, I don't look like a faggot and talk all educated." Alex laughed.

The gunshots exploded in the library, over and over; the shotgun blasts steadily assaulted Alex and Eric's ears. But neither of them would stop shooting; neither of them _could_ stop shooting. "Go, go!" Alex shouted, and the two chased still-living students deeper into the library, weeding them out among the bookshelves and under the tables. One boy, some idiot baseball player whose name Alex had never bothered to learn, actually emerged from cover and raised his hands high in surrender. The shotgun cut him down.

Then, suddenly, Alex got an idea. "Hey, man, you wanna split up?" he asked as Eric fired a burst and the TEC-9 clicked empty. "Huh?" was Eric's response.

"Keep 'em covered here, man," Alex said, starting to jog off towards the doors he and Eric had come through. "I'm gonna hunt for some preppy bitches."

Grinning like a wolf, Alex ran for the girl's bathroom just down the hall. He remembered that threesome of cute, stuck-up prep girls, they of the post-lunch purges and the designer clothes and the non-stop, three-way conversations perpetually devoid of meaning, were almost always in this one bathroom this time of day. They liked to make sure they looked nice and pretty for lunch.

As he could hear Eric's TEC-9 going off in the library, Alex grinned. If the pitch- and sudden stop- of the screams was any indication, his friend was having fun in there.

Alex rounded the corner into the girl's bathroom on D Hall; sure enough, there they were. All three of them.

"Eeek!" was about all they could say, and Alex smiled slyly, pumping the shotgun as he stepped fully into view. Three seconds and as many shots later, the bodies were on the floor and Alex walked out of the room. He'd noticed a fourth, some girl he didn't know, hiding in one of the stalls. She'd pulled her feet up just a second too late; Alex knew she was there. But for some reason, that didn't matter. Alex's interest in the girl's bathroom on D Hall vanished as quickly as it appeared, and he walked out without ever saying a word.

He met Eric just as the blonde was coming out into the hallway. "Eh," Eric shrugged, "I think everybody's dead in there. That or they ran for it."

"What say we split up?" Alex asked.

"Split _up_?" Eric was slow and stupid at times, and his concept of tactics was definitely not the most innovative. He tended to stick to whatever plans were made beforehand; changing stuff as you went just confused him.

"Yeah," Alex nodded. "We'll go off, have our fun and cover two different sections of the school at the same time. Let's meet up in the cafeteria once we're done, okay?"

Finally, Eric nodded after thinking for a few moments. "Okay. But I get to kill Mr. Luce."

The principal of their high school; Eric's hated rival ever since he'd come here. Alex just smiled.

"He's all yours."


	4. Chapter 4- Eric's Revenge

**Chapter IV- Eric's Revenge**

* * *

Alex headed off one way down D Hall; Eric took the other. It took some ten minutes of winding his way through the school to get anywhere near the principal's office; Eric figured Mr. Luce would get it in his head to be a hero, and would run to the classrooms nearest there to warn people away.

At about 11:45 a massive explosion rocked the school; Eric staggered into one of the lockers to his right and laughed aloud. One of the bombs must have gone off; at least partially. "Fuckin' _get_ some!" he yelled, firing wildly at a fleeing student and dropping him with many more shots than was necessary. Walking up close, Eric prodded the kid with his boot; he groaned when, by chance, that boot touched one of his wounds.

Eric held out the TEC-9 and fired a round into the kid's head. "Bitch."

Then he rounded a corner, coming to the last hallway before the principal's office and the other administrator's offices came into view. Sure enough, Mr. Luce was there, urging a group of panicked sophomores out of their classroom. "Just get to the band room!" he was saying. "From there, you can cut across the school and get away! Find an exit!"

Eric had just swapped magazines on his TEC-9, but he made no effort to shoot. He let the sophomores go. Once they had gone and the hallway was silent again, Eric called out calmly, "Hey, Mr. Luce."

The man turned, immediately shrinking in fear at the sight of Eric, steadily advancing with the TEC-9 in his hands. "Eric," he managed to say, "Why are you doing this? Please, just put the gun down-"

"I ain't puttin' SHIT down!" Eric suddenly screamed, firing the TEC-9 into the ceiling.

Luce crumpled at the shot, falling and cringing against one of the lockers. "Put the gun down; we'll talk about this!" he pleaded.

Eric looked down at him with real disgust. "Shut up!" he barked.

But for some reason, Eric felt like talking, dragging this out a few moments longer. It might be fun, he decided, to let the man believe he had a chance for just a little while longer. Nothing, Eric was fast coming to discover, was more enjoyable was to watch someone die with hope you knew was false.

"You let me and Jared get bullied!" Eric said accusingly.

"I have to have proof, Eric- you gotta be able to prove these things!"

"You had your fuckin' proof! If you looked at those dumb fuck jocks you like so much, you'd see what they do in the halls every day!" Eric yelled, angry at the memory. Mr. Luce might have been cowering now, but on an ordinary day he was in his element, taking a little too much enjoyment in exercising his authority and making the high school students he was supposed to be leading fear him.

"What was I supposed to do?," Luce pleaded. "I didn't do anything to you."

Eric just shook his head, annoyed. "Yeah, you _did_. And I should shoot you right now for it, you _know_ I should."

Eric paused, standing directly over Mr. Luce. "But I think I might let you live, maybe, because I want you to know this…"

"The next kids that come to you with their problems, tell you they're being picked on? You should listen to them. No matter what twisted shit they say. Because when you're being picked on, it's-"

Suddenly, Eric stopped; he had a feeling someone was watching him. He spun around, instinctively raising the TEC-9 as he went- and fired the instant he saw the tall, black senior called Benny walking slowly towards him. Hit in the chest; dead center shot. Benny went down without a sound, staring sightlessly up at the ceiling of the hallway.

"Fuck," Eric said, his nerves keyed up by the idea that he'd almost been jumped in the middle of his own school shooting. Then he turned and looked at Benny, his upper lip curling in contempt. "Fuckin' nigger," Eric added with a sneer.

Then he turned back, staring down at the cringing Mr. Luce and shrugging. "Fuck," Eric said again, shrugging. "Anyway, Mr. Luce, whatever. And you know there's others out there like us, too. Guys like me and Alex. We just wanna get by, do what we wanna do. We don't bother nobody, and the jocks and preps? They can't have it that way. They gotta fuck with shit. And you think we don't notice when we get slammed into a locker by the football team captain, and you act like you didn't see?"

"They _will_ kill you, Mr. Luce. Those other guys? They'll kill you if you fuck with them like you did me and Jared."

Finally Eric stopped; he had to make his decision here. "Get out of here," Eric said suddenly, "before I change my mind." When Luce was a bit slow in getting up, the hope dawning in his eyes that he might yet be spared, Eric kicked him hard. "Go!"

That did it; that got him moving. Eric's high school principle jumped up and started running down the hallway, sprinting for all he was worth in that stupid blue sweater-vest of his.

It took maybe three seconds for Eric to change his mind; he fired about six rounds downrange, and before long Mr. Luce went down a second time. It didn't look like he'd be getting up. Eric just sneered again; the man had been so weak in the end. What a fucking coward; and he could have made all the difference. If he'd actually cared about his students, cared about true justice… Eric knew he would have never needed to do this. Eric just sneered at the prone form of Mr. Luce, dismissing him with one word as he turned away.

"Bitch."


	5. Chapter 5- The Cafeteria

**Chapter V- The Cafeteria**

* * *

The school stood empty and silent; lockers and classroom doors everywhere stood open. Bodies, papers and books, even backpacks dropped in students' panicked efforts to escape, littered the halls. Alex threw a few of his home-made Molotovs into the open lockers, whooping whenever they caught on something and a nice, satisfactory fire was started.

The shotgun was gone, now- the barrel had been growing too damn hot, and the damn thing was out of shells anyway. Some fifty-plus rounds and he'd spent them all.

_Enough ammo to last almost a day_, Alex thought bitterly as he ditched the shotgun in one of the endless, identical hallways. _My ass_.

But he'd bagged at least 11 so far, and half of those at least had to be dead for sure. Alex kept quick on his feet, making sure to constantly be moving from room to room, hall to hall, target to target. He shot and killed, shot and wounded- what mattered was that the count had to keep climbing. For every one he shot, ten escaped unharmed. Alex had known this even when he'd started the planning, but even so the reality of it was irritating. No matter how many he shot today, Alex knew it would never compare to what it could have been… had the damn bombs only worked properly.

One of them had gone off- upstairs, probably causing severe damage to the hallway linking the two halves of the upper-most floor of the school.

Alex hoped it had dropped added some frags to the board in the process.

Alex fired maybe half a magazine's worth with the AR-15 on his way to the front hall of the school; there he took just a few seconds to empty that magazine on the many trophy cases lining the front hall.

"Fuck your fuckin' football trophies, motherfuckers," Alex said into the quiet, his boots crunching as he walked across the sea of shattered glass.

Then he reloaded, quoting a line as he moved off towards the rendezvous point at the cafeteria: "So foul and fair a day I have not seen." It was from Alex's favourite Shakespeare play, one he'd referenced more than once in his own writings in English class. It just figured that nobody but the teacher had noticed them, and even then not really appreciated Alex's budding literary greatness. It just fucking _figured_.

By the time Alex did reach the cafeteria, the school was a ghost town; not a living soul could be seen or found anywhere. But as he neared the hallway leading to the cafeteria, Alex suddenly stopped. Down the hall, he saw that stupid jock, the one always wearing his fucking red lifeguard sweater. Him and his stupid girlfriend.

They saw him too, because they quickly ducked out of sight. "Oh, shit- it's _him_!" Alex heard the girl say. He advanced slowly, warily down the hallway, watching the side corridors and the entrances to the classrooms. _Stay frosty_, he reminded himself. _No time like this for some hero to try something. Stay frosty_.

But Alex reached the cafeteria without anyone trying anything; he marveled at how dozens of backpacks still at near the tables and hideous yellow plastic chairs, how every one of the trays still had food and drinks on it.

Alex sat down in one of the chairs, vaguely amused as he saw a dead cook sprawled across the floor a few feet away. He'd been running- trying- to get out. Obviously Eric had passed by here.

The dark-haired teen picked up one of the Styrofoam cups, glancing at the rather cheap hot chocolate inside. Through the foam walls of the cup, he could feel it was still warm. He took a drink, finding it really wasn't so bad.

"Hey, man- I wouldn't drink that," a familiar voice called, slightly lazy and drawling. "You'll get herpes or something."

Alex just laughed a little, glancing over and setting down the cup as he saw Eric standing in the entrance to the cafeteria.

Eric jerked his chin up, the classic male American high schooler's "What's up" gesture. "So, how'd you do?"

Alex shrugged, taking on a modest air after his 15 probable kills. "Did all right. What happened? You get Luce?"

Eric grinned a little. "I shot the principle, and some other people, and-"

BANG!

While Eric talked, Alex had snapped up the AR-15 and fired-

-not even an inch right of his friend's torso.

Eric froze; he stared, wide-eyed, between the 5.56mm bullet's hole in the wall behind him and Alex, sitting there with the AR-15 in his hands. Eric was just dumbfounded. "Dude- what the fuck?"

Alex shrugged.

A noise off in the kitchens behind them; it sounded like a door closing. "Dude," Eric said, "You hear that?"

Alex stood up; indeed he had. "Let's go get 'em."

The wail of police sirens could be heard in the distance, getting closer all the time. Eric motioned outside, forgetting whoever might be back in the kitchens. "Yo, let's shoot some of these cops," he said.

"Eric, we're not here to shoot _cops_. We're here to shoot _people_."

Eric stared again, not understanding. "So, what the fuck are _cops_ then?"

Alex shrugged, checking the magazine on his AR-15. One round down- 28 in the magazine and one in the chamber. Good to go. "Pigs," Alex said dismissively.

Finally, the blonde laughed, slapping his friend on the shoulder as they moved into the kitchen to play hide and seek- or rather, Eric's preferred version, search and destroy. "Pigs, huh?"

"Yeah, dude," Alex said. "Fuckin' pigs."

They hunted about in the kitchens for maybe two or three minutes; it amazed both of them that their lousy high school had a kitchen this big. All the lights were still on, and pots and pans stood empty everywhere; stoves were still on, baking the hell out of food that should have been taken out nearly an hour ago.

Then the two reached the cooler, where all the vegetables and such were stored; behind that was the freezer, the sub-zero-temperatures meat locker. Clutching his rifle in one hand, Alex grabbed the handle and pulled the door open.

He grinned when he saw who was behind the door.

"Well, well, well," Alex smirked, and Eric laughed at his friend's wit. "Look who it is!"

The football player-and-lifeguard Nathan and his girlfriend Carrie had been hiding in the locker; obviously this was where they had gone after spotting Alex. Now they had nowhere else to go.

"How's it hanging, Nathan?" Eric said, recalling the popular boy's name. "Saving some _lives_ today?"

Alex shrugged when the two just stared, wide-eyed, and didn't make a sound. "Guess not."

Then the dark-haired teen raised his rifle, motioning for Eric to join him. "Eenie, meenie, miney, moe," Alex began, and Eric quickly picked up on it, slowly moving his raised weapon from one target to the other.

"What the hell are you doing?" Nathan said, and Carrie pleaded things like "Please," as the two of them found their voices.

"Catch a tiger, by his toe…" Eric continued.

"This isn't something you wanna do," Nathan said, but Alex just went on relentlessly, "If he hollers, let him go."

Then Eric finished, smiling in anticipation, "Eenie…. Meenie…. Miney…. _Moe_."

Two gunshots exploded suddenly, deafening in the closed space of the meatlocker. Eric staggered out, putting his hands to his head. "_Fuck_!"

Alex just wandered out, his ears ringing but otherwise fine. Well, he had probably suffered some serious hearing loss today, but it wasn't like it mattered.

Alex motioned outside, offering to accept Eric's request that they do battle with the police. But Eric just stayed where he was in the kitchen, solemnly shaking his head. "I don't wanna shoot cops anymore."

The dark-haired teen looked at his friend uncertainly. "Well, what _do_ you wanna do?" he asked quietly, after a few moments.

"Just wanna stay here. With you."

Alex nodded finally, shrugging and leaning up against one of the counters. Each boy took a few moments fidgeting with his weapon, making sure it was loaded and would fire when that last shot needed to happen.

"Dude, were you gonna _shoot _me back there?"

The dark-haired teenager looked up suddenly, and he saw Eric looking at him curiously. Eric didn't understand a lot of things, but others he would work very hard to know. There were some things you just had to have answers to.

Finally, Alex just shrugged a little, almost embarrassed to look Eric in the eyes. "I guess."

Alex glanced up; he expected to see anger or hurt in Eric's eyes, maybe even a sense of betrayal. But Eric just looked at him, thinking. Finally, he just said quietly, "Well, I'm glad you didn't, man."

"Yeah, me too."

Alex wondered about that, though; about that one shot he'd fired- a shot that he knew he'd barely diverted from killing Eric at the last second.

_Why_? Alex wondered. _Why did I do that? And then why did I let him go_?

But then Alex shook his head. He had almost betrayed the one real friend he'd ever had in the world, the one guy he'd always been able to trust. Nothing could have excused that, had he really done it. And Alex realised, then, that his friendship with Eric, even with Eric's hero-worship of Alex or perhaps because of it, had come to mean a great deal to him. He wouldn't trade it for anything; he wouldn't have let Eric go for the world.

Alex and Eric looked at each other in the kitchen, each having a good guess as to what the other was thinking. Neither of them said anything, though, because there wasn't any need to.

"You're the only real friend I've ever had," Alex said quietly. "The best friend I've ever had. I couldn't let you go."

"I know, man," Eric said, his voice equally quiet. "I know."

The first SWAT teams entered the high school just as a pair of gunshots exploded in the cafeteria, almost literally in the same instant.


End file.
